


A Lost Art

by ElenaCee



Series: Devil's Trap [4]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Domestic, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Magical Realism, Some Plot, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-03-07
Packaged: 2018-09-28 13:42:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10106963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElenaCee/pseuds/ElenaCee
Summary: The Devil's Trap is not quite as lost an art as Lucifer thought.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There's probably no actual Devil's Trap described in the Key of Solomon. I wouldn't know, I haven't read it, so I plead poetic license.  
> No devils were harmed during the writing of this story.

“Our brethren have been taken by the police,” Brother Mark announced upon entering the vaulted room.

This announcement stopped all activity in the abandoned church as the brethren gathered to listen.

Brother Kim nodded from where he and the rest of the brethren now stood assembled at the altar. “We knew that this would happen. They acted rashly. They were unprepared. They failed.”

The other three robed figures mumbled assent. Confronting the Adversary without full knowledge of the Key or any other preparation had been foolhardy. It was a miracle that their brethren had survived at all.

“They put their trust into the fact that the Adversary would be weakened by the presence of his consort and took no measures beyond that,” Brother Kim went on. “We will not make that same mistake. And we have been given divine aid.” He turned and walked towards the organ. “Behold.”

The brethren followed, looking around.

“Here,” Brother Kim said, pointing at the floor. His voice was full of awe.

The robed figures gathered to look. There was a large dark stain on the wooden church floor near the organ, clearly visible even among the rubble and in this bad light.

“The blood of an angel,” Brother Kim said reverently. “This is where one of the Holy Host was slain by the Unclean One. This is where we shall draw the circle. With this stain of shame in its center.”

The others looked at one another. “But that will impact the exorcism,” Brother Oleg said hesitantly. “The Key of Solomon does not mention angelic blood. There’s no telling how this will affect the outcome.”

The others nodded. Brother Pedro added, “We are engaging the most powerful cosmic forces in existence, Brother Kim. Surely, we should stick to the scripture as closely as possible?”

But Brother Kim did not share the concerns of his brethren. “If anything, this will render the holy forces even stronger. How can this be anything but a good thing? We are taking on the most powerful foe it is possible to face! We need every advantage we can get!”

That silenced the brethren.

“Let us pray,” Brother Kim said, “then purge ourselves of sin.”

Half an hour later, they proceeded with the ritual. They had cleared the floor of the debris of the battle that had taken place here. Next, they placed the ancient tome on the altair to be able to refer to it, and, following a period of activity interspersed by prayer, they had drawn the Devil’s Trap pentacle upon the church floor; its intricate design surrounding and crossing through the dark red stain as planned.

Now all that remained for the five brethren to do was bait the trap and lure the Devil in.

 

* * *

 

Chloe felt the mattress next to her dip just as she was blinking her eyes open. The first thing she saw were two big dark brown eyes right in front of her face, in her whole field of view.

Smiling happily, she extricated her arms from the sheets covering her to reach for the owner of those eyes. She promptly found herself enveloped in angelic warmth. “Good morning,” she slurred, still foggy with sleep.

“Damned right it is,” Lucifer said, holding her close and kissing her forehead.

Sweet as that was, she was having none of it. Anchoring one hand in his hair (the curls already tamed, much to her disappointment), she pulled him down and kissed his mouth, thoroughly. He tasted of whisky. “How long’ve you been up?” she asked when she could speak again.

“Since dawn.” He ran his hand up and down her back. She noticed that he was wearing his black silk robe and nothing else.

Much as she would love to take advantage of that, she found that she was still sore from last night. “Couldn’t sleep?” She found herself asking the question even though she knew that he didn’t need as much sleep as a human did. Sometimes, Lucifer would go several days in a row without any sleep at all; at others, he’d still be in bed and sound asleep next to her when she needed to get up in the morning. He would make a point of always being there next to her when she woke up, though.

“Wasn’t tired,” he replied, now playing with her hair. “I had intended to do the books, but the sight of you distracted me.”

Which would explain why he had known the exact moment when she woke up. “You’ve been watching me sleep?” It should be disturbing. Instead, she felt touched, even cherished.

“I was struck dumb with wonder at the sight of a heaven-sent miracle in my bed, helpless to look away, yes,” he said earnestly. “I barely managed to break the spell long enough to get started on brekkie.”

She smiled. “You also found the time to banish your curls,” she teased him, knowing how much he hated them.

“That was before I became enraptured.” He kissed her like she was the most precious thing in the universe.

“Pity.” Once again, she wondered whether all this was real, could be real. Surely, no one could be this happy without spontaneously combusting. “I think you look cute all curly.”

“I look ridiculous,” he returned. Then he reached behind himself to produce a travel mug. “Your coffee, my love.”

She drew away a bit to take a sip. Perfect as always, and even the right temperature. She sighed in bliss. “You’re an angel.”

“Not for eons,” he purred. “I’m much less boring than that.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Your brother doesn’t seem all that boring to me.”

“He’s the most boring of ‘em all.” He lay back, considering. “Well, he has improved a bit since he fell, I must admit. Lost some of his stuffy righteousness.” He raised himself back up to look her in the eye. “Don’t tell me you have a thing for Amenadiel.”

She smiled. “Oh, I don’t know. He’s very imposing. Well-spoken. Polite. Dresses well. Beautiful voice.”

His gaze grew more intense. “Normally, I would suggest a threesome at this point, but I find I’m not willing to share.”

She batted her lashes at him for a bit, wondering whether she could manage to make his eyes flash red before breakfast.

The thought was immediately followed by remorse for her willingness to provoke him like that. As sweet as he could be when he wanted to, there was no doubt in her mind that the Devil was far from tamed, and that she was playing with fire.

His eyes left hers to focus on the side of her face where the bruise from their encounter with the religious zealots was still fading, and she could see his expression harden. Gently, he touched her temple, his warm fingertips barely brushing the skin. “Are you sure that evisceration is off the table?” he said softly. And there it was - a brief flash of hellfire in his eyes.

She probably shouldn’t find it as hot as she did. “Down, Lucifer,” she said, fighting down a mixture of arousal, amusement, deep affection and, yes, a thrill of awe. Not to mention the ever-present sense of ‘this can’t be real’ that had become her constant companion since she’d found out about him. “A, I’m fine. And B, the guy is getting his just dessert as soon as he’s fit for trial. It’s not worth getting angry about, sexy as it looks.”

He brightened immediately. “You think it looks sexy? I’ll definitely remember that.”

“Don’t you dare use it to distract me at work.”

His smile got even more, well, devilish. “Or what? You’ll spank me?”

She rolled her eyes. There was no winning when he was like that. Better quit while she was ahead.

Half an hour of bickering later, they were sitting out on the balcony for breakfast, enjoying the view.

Chloe looked at the Devil across from her surrounded by all that breathtaking landscape and sprawling city, wondering idly why he had chosen such a lofty place for his home. To be as far away from Hell as he could? To be closer to Heaven, even subconsciously? Or was it because angels, even fallen ones, were still creatures of the air and simply enjoyed high altitudes?

As she she took another bite of her (excellent, as always) omelette and bacon, another thought came to her. “What was all that about a fight in a church, anyway?”

There was a long silence.

When she looked at him, she found that he had put down his coffee mug and was contemplating his left cufflink, face tense.

“Lucifer?” She hadn’t expected him to react like this. Clearly, she had hit upon a sore point. “If you’d rather not talk about it…”

He looked up, still tense. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay,” she said readily.

“But,” he went on, “I must. I don’t want any secrets between us. ‘Long-lasting relationships are built on trust, and keeping secrets kills trust.’ According to the Internet, anyway.”

She bit down on her amused smile, remembering that all this was still so new to him. He was trying so hard.

“You won’t like what I have to say,” he went on, clearly uncomfortable now. “There’s actually a good chance that you may even hate me for it.”

That sounded ominous. “I doubt that, but okay. Consider me forewarned.”

“Right.” He drew a breath. “Remember that car crash you were in?” At her nod, he went on, “As I told you then, it was no accident that it happened. It was indirectly caused by my brother Uriel.”

“Lucifer, that was a random -”

“Please, hear me out. It wasn’t random. Angels can’t kill humans directly. It’s one of Dad’s laws. But Uriel knew pattern recognition and cause-and-effect. It was his thing, his gift from Dad, like drawing out hidden desires is mine. It’s a supernatural ability. He could see everything developing, and he knew what to do to shape future events to do his bidding. He caused that dog to run into the street and the car to swerve and hit you. It was all deliberate.”

She stared at him, fearing that she already knew where he was going with this. She had seen him almost lose it completely because some thug merely slapped her. What would he be capable of doing if someone actually made her bleed? Even if it was his own brother? “But, why? What have I ever done to him?”

“I had made a deal with Dad for your life, and He didn’t appreciate the loophole I had found to get out of it. So He decided the deal was void and sent Uriel to take your life back.”

She held up a hand. “Hold on. A deal? For my life? When? What deal?”

“Coma boy,” he said, running a hand across his forehead. “Malcolm. In the hangar, when he had taken your spawn. After he shot me, I couldn’t protect you anymore, and he was clearly about to kill you. So I asked Dad to protect you. In return, I was supposed to send Mum back to Hell. She had escaped in all the confusion. Instead, I sentenced her to living on the earthly plane, which she hates even more than being in Hell, so I considered it an equitable trade-off. Daddy Dearest didn’t agree and sent Uriel.”

She didn’t know what to be more horrified about. “You… You’ve got the most dysfunctional family I’ve ever heard about, Lucifer. What is it with you and all those deals? Don’t any of you ever just ask, or do something for your family out of love, or something?”

He snorted bitterly. “Dad loves you humans more than He loves His own flesh and blood, with the possible exception of my brother Michael. Why do you think did He cast me out? All I wanted was the same thing you humans were created with - free will -, and for that I was burned and banned from home for all eternity!” He panted in fury. “No, dear old Dad would never allow me to use a perfectly legal loophole out of the goodness of His heart, even though I technically kept my end of the deal. It was either according to His will or not at all. Like bloody always.” He got up and began to pace.

She watched him, biting her lip. He clearly hadn’t exaggerated when he said he didn’t want to talk about this.

“Anyway,” he went on, visibly forcing himself to calm, “after Amenadiel had failed to send Uriel back to Heaven, I confronted Uriel in that church. He was about to set in motion a chain of events that would have killed you in two days. Even if I had managed to disrupt that one, he would just have started another one. Eventually, he would have succeeded. You would have died, Chloe. I… I couldn’t allow that to happen.” He came to stand in front of her, all fury gone, looking thoroughly miserable. “So I first tried to talk him out of doing it, and when he wouldn’t listen, I… killed him.”

She remembered how haunted he’d looked during that time, how drained of all joy, neglecting himself, even actively trying to get himself killed. “You wanted to be punished for that,” she said aloud. “That’s why you stood in the sniper’s firing line.” She nodded to herself in realization. “You wanted to die.”

“Yes.” He sat down on the floor next to her chair, looking up at her. “I deserve punishment. I’m a murderer, Chloe.”

She said nothing for a minute, then slowly shook her head. “It doesn’t make sense.”

He blinked. “What?”

“It doesn’t make sense for God to try to kill me through your brother. I thought He put me here to be in your path? For us to end up together? How can that happen if I get killed before that?”

His eyes widened. “You’re right. It doesn’t make sense.” He hesitated. “Doesn’t change the fact that I’m a murderer, though.”

She shook her head. “I’m not so sure. Seems to me like you did everything in your power to prevent a crime.”

“Are you not listening to me? I killed my brother.”

She took his hand. “We’ve just established that Uriel couldn’t have been acting on God’s orders. So, he must have gone rogue. You also said that angels aren’t allowed to kill humans. Well, killing someone by setting something in motion doesn’t make it any less premeditated murder than pulling a trigger. It’s just a more complicated trigger. You kept a rogue element from murdering a human, a special human, even. Seems to me like you may even have been acting in God’s interest.”

He sighed deeply. “Oh, bloody hell.”

“And also,” she went on, “all that really got to you. I had never seen you like this. I was scared for you. Lucifer, had you ever killed anyone before that?”

“Never.”

“Ever felt that kind of guilt?”

He shook his head. “Before, Hell couldn’t hold me. Now, because of this, it can.”

She was seeing things clearly now. “Murderers get sent to Hell, right? But you were sent there for, what, rebelling against your father? You were down there, in literal Hell, for literally billions of years. That is not proportionate to the crime you committed.” She paused.

He looked at her, eyebrows raised, clearly not getting it.

She reached down to him and took his hand. “Lucifer, you’ve already done your time. You were punished before the fact. That was an injustice. And you suffered so much with the guilt you felt that it was its own punishment. I’d say the slate is clean now.”

He looked at their joined hands, then up at her. “Are you saying you forgive me?”

“It’s not for me to forgive you. Killing an angel is not a crime according to human jurisdiction. But yeah, I don’t hold it against you. You had no choice.”

The expression in his eyes was a mixture of wonder and vulnerability. “Detective…”

And that was another thing she couldn’t wrap her mind around - how he, the Devil, could look to her for validation like that. How he could depend on her approval like that. And how she should ever be able to live up to this responsibility.

How this could ever end up in anything other than tragedy.

 

* * *

 

Two hour laters, she had put in a pit stop at a grocery store. As she was on her way back to her car, arms full with supplies, three masked men jumped out at her from behind a parked car, and before she could get a hand free and at her gun, a cloth was pressed over her nose and mouth.

She struggled, but it was no use. The world went dark.

 

* * *

 

When Chloe came to, she found herself sitting on a stone floor, tied hands and feet, leaning against a wooden surface, her head bowed, chin on her chest.

Keeping motionless, she tried to assess her situation without giving away that she was awake. The funny taste in her mouth and the residual nausea indicated that chloroform or something similar had been used to knock her out. She wasn’t alone; she could hear voices. Several voices, all male. From her vantage point, she could see the stone structure of the floor and a curved white line that seemed to have been painted on it.

“It’s not too late to stop this,” one of the voices said.

“We will go through with it, Brother Oleg,” another replied. “This is not the time for cowardice. This is the time for great deeds to be done in the name of the Lord.”

Chloe had heard that phrase before, hadn’t she. She groaned, deciding that the time for playing possum was past. “Oh please,” she said, raising her head, “haven’t you guys learned anything from last time?”

She found herself seated near the edge of an intricate circular design painted onto the stone floor with some sort of white paint. In the center of the circle was a stain that looked suspiciously like blood. The building she was in - obviously a church - had a dilapidated look, the pews disorderly, some of them smashed, one window also destroyed. Five men in monk’s robes stood near, looking at her from under raised cowls, faces invisible in the bad light.

“We apologize for this treatment, Ms Decker,” one of them said. “We are doing this for you. We promise that we will not harm you.”

She snorted. “Too late for that, wouldn’t you say? Also, if I were you, I’d run.”

“Like I said,” the monk went on, ignoring the implied warning, “we’re doing this for you, the Devil’s Consort. We know the plight you are in. This -” he pointed at the floor and the intricate circle painted upon it - “will free you.”

“You’re insane. I’m not in any ‘plight’, and I don’t need freeing, except from these.” She nodded at the wire straps binding her ankles. “Just let me go, and I promise I won’t press charges.”

“The Lord of Lies holds you under his thrall, Consort. Your words are not your own. We know this.”

She was beginning to lose patience. “Look, pal, if you don’t let me go right now, the ‘Lord of Lies’ will come find me, and you’ll be lucky to be in one piece when he’s through with you.”

“That’s what we’re counting on.” The robed man nodded at another, who stepped forward.

“I apologize,” the other monk said. “But we must gag you so you can’t warn him.”

Chloe briefly considered fighting, but decided against it. She was outnumbered and couldn’t use her arms. Kicking the guy in the crotch would be satisfying but ultimately gain her nothing.

As soon as the gag was in place, the monk who had spoken before - clearly their leader - produced a cell phone and took a picture of her. Chloe realized it was her phone. “He is bold, using his real name,” the monk said, holding the phone up. “Or maybe you are the bold one.” He typed in a short text.

There was a beep. “The Unclean One has received our message, brothers. He will be here within seconds if he flies. Let us take our positions.”

The monks dispersed to somewhere behind Chloe. Turning her head, she saw that she was seated with her back leaning against a wooden organ whose pipes provided plenty of cover. She also realized that, in order to get to her and free her, Lucifer would have to cross the circle.

A feeling of dread took possession of her. She worked her jaw and tongue, trying to spit the gag out, but it was secure, and all she accomplished was chafing the corners of her mouth.

Time passed, and Chloe had to consciously keep her muscles from cramping up with the tension she felt. But finally, she could hear the screeching of tyres from outside.

“Why didn’t he fly?” an unfamiliar voice whispered somewhere behind Chloe.

There was an answering whisper she couldn’t make out.

The church door flew open, crashing against the filling, the opening outlining Lucifer’s familiar silhouette against the bright light outside. His eyes were blazing red.

Chloe felt her heart sink. Rational thinking clearly was not happening for the Devil right now.

Then he spotted her and began to advance, glowing eyes fixed on her and only her, never hesitating.

And why, Chloe found herself thinking, should he be careful? What was there for him to fear? He was one of the most powerful beings in the cosmos. This whole setup would have screamed trap to anyone else, but pride was a deadly sin - and his favorite one - for a reason.

“Detective!” he said, and then he stepped into the circle.

The white paint lines illuminated briefly as soon as he was inside. Startled, he looked down, then up again to meet Chloe’s eyes. His own eyes had stopped glowing. “Bloody hell,” he said. And then, with a look of vague surprise, he slowly fell to his knees. Before his knees hit the floor, his glamour was gone, leaving him in his Devil form.

“Praise the Lord,” the voice of the leading monk said as the five robed figures left their hiding places to surround the circle, crossing themselves as they went.

Lucifer looked up at them. “Let her go.” His voice sounded as weak as Chloe has ever heard it.

One monk nodded. “Of course. Now that we have you in the Greater Pentacle, you are powerless, and she should be free of your influence, Satan.” He turned to Chloe, produced a small pocket knife, and cut the wire straps on her ankles. “I hope you are feeling relieved, now that his evil is contained,” he said to her. Another cut freed her hands.

She ripped off the gag, ready to demonstrate just how ‘relieved’ she was feeling, but stopped herself. She was still outnumbered, and before she had a bead on what the hell was wrong with Lucifer, she should probably keep her hand close to her vest. “What have you done to him?” she demanded. “What is that circle?”

“That, Detective,” Lucifer interjected, “would be the Devil’s Trap I mentioned a while ago.”

She turned to him. “The one you said was a lost art?”

He shrugged one shoulder. “Mhm. Clearly, I was wrong.”

“Ms Decker -” the lead monk began.

Chloe ignored him. “Can’t you just get out of the circle?”

“Afraid not. That’s why it’s called that. These humans know what they’re doing, surprise, surprise.” Lucifer peered at the monks. “What are you, anyway, Canes Domini reinvented?”

“We’re _Dominicans_.”

Lucifer grinned. It looked very disconcerting on his Devil face, and it seemed subdued, weak. Clearly, being inside the circle was affecting him badly. “That’s what I said. Well. You’ve got me, now what are you gonna do with me?”

“We are going to exorcise you, Satan.”

The grin melted off Lucifer’s face. “That’s impossible. You cannot exorcise the Devil. Only demons. Or possessions, or curses. They can be exorcised. Not me.”

“We have the ritual. We can do it, and we will.” He turned to Chloe. “Ms Decker, we must now ask you to leave.”

Chloe thought fast. She could make a fuss, which would probably provoke an altercation, one she wasn’t sure she’d win. Or she could go and come back with reinforcements, or at the very least armed.

Time to put her acting classes to good use. Nodding meekly, she forced a relieved smile. “Thank you. Thank you for freeing me. I’ll go back to my old life now. I’ll never seek him out again.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Lucifer give her a strange look. His Devil face was hard to read, and she couldn’t tell whether he realized that she was only playing a part.

Oh well, nothing she could do about that without giving the game away. Holding her hand out towards the lead monk, she said, “Can I have my phone back, please? I’ll need to call an Uber.”

There were no objections, and as soon as she had the device, she walked towards the door, already scrolling through her contacts. _Hang in there, Lucifer_ , she thought, feeling his eyes bore into her back. _Your consort is not about to abandon you._


	2. Chapter 2

As Chloe walked out of the church, she was hit by a gust of wind and a strong smell of rain, which was odd. The sky had been clear blue when she had been taken; no mention of thunderstorms in the forecast. And yet now, dark, heavy clouds were blocking out the sun.

Her phone started buzzing the second she had scrolled down her contact list to “Maze”.

It was Maze. “Decker, what’s going on?” the demon said, voice shrill. “I can’t feel Lucifer anymore. It’s like he’s been destroyed. Decker! Talk to me! _What is wrong with Lucifer?!_ ”

Chloe looked over her shoulder at the closed church door, still walking the other way fast to get some distance from it. “Maze. Maze! Calm down. He’s not destroyed. But he’s in trouble. I need your help.”

“And I need you to tell me where Lucifer is. Now!”

“Maze, wait. There’s things going on here that I don’t completely understand. We need to be rational. Can you contact Amenadiel for me, please? We may need an angel on our side.”

There was a brief pause at the other end of the line. “What is going on, Decker! _I can’t feel Lucifer!_ This can’t be happening!” Maze yelled.

Chloe closed her eyes. The demon’s obvious fear and worry were contagious, and she needed to keep her wits. “Contact Amenadiel. Then come to the parking lot one block over from the church.” She gave her the address.

“On my way,” Maze growled.

“Maze! We’ll need Amenadiel!”

The line went dead. Chloe sighed.

Lightning flashed, with a roll of thunder following closely.

She looked up. “You and me both, God.”

 

* * *

 

Being powerless was new.

Never, in all his eons, had Lucifer experienced anything like this: All-encompassing cold. Profound weakness. No wrath to bolster his flagging energy. Numbness in those parts of his mind that should be buzzing with power. A feeling of crushing loneliness: the mental connection to Mazikeen and all his demons cut; the subliminal awareness of his family lost to complete silence. No access to his glamour. Even his conscious thoughts were slow and sluggish.

His skin was beginning to ache with remembered pain. Or maybe it was actual pain from his burns? It certainly felt like it.

Whatever. This wasn’t fun, and he wanted out.

And that was another thing that was new. He was trapped. He couldn’t get away. Him! He could only watch helplessly as the Dominicans were moving outside of the circle that held him confined, walking around it clockwise and counterclockwise, chanting Latin incantations that he hadn’t heard in centuries - badly pronounced though they were -, and all to, what, exorcise him?

Preposterous. It didn’t, couldn’t, work like that. Stupid humans.

Something was happening, though. There was a buildup of something. He could feel it. Everything was hurting now - his skin, his eyes, his lungs. Uriel’s blood on the floor that he couldn’t avoid touching was burning hot. The very air within the circle seemed to shimmer and sizzle. Breathing was an effort. He felt like his remaining strength was being drained out of him. And he was so, so cold, and getting colder.

He wanted out. Couldn’t.

He usually enjoyed trying new things. But as much as he liked a little pain, or a spot of bondage now and then, this wasn’t fun at all.

It wouldn’t be so bad if only the Detective hadn’t left him here alone with them. He had been looking forward to watching her manhandle his father’s servants like she had other humans so often before. But then she’d left without a word. Without even one last look at him.

She would be back, right?

Right?

 

* * *

 

The third incantation was drawing to a close.

Brother Kim was worried. According to the Key, the Adversary should be lying motionless by now, his immortal soul banished to Hell by the exorcism, leaving behind his soulless, unfeeling body. Not dead, because only the Lord could truly destroy an angel, and that’s what he was, if a fallen one.

But he certainly shouldn’t be writhing and screaming in agony like this.

The brethren were looking nervous as well. Even though they needed to do this work in the name of the Lord and for the good of all mankind, it was obvious to all of them that the Adversary was still very much with them, and in great torment. And they were the cause of it.

Maybe with the final lines of the incantation spoken, the work would be done, and the suffering would end. Brother Kim sincerely hoped so. The Devil might be evil incarnate, but he was still God’s creature, and could feel pain like any other.

The incantation ended.

Lucifer’s suffering did not.

A flash of lightning illuminated the church, followed by a crash of thunder that literally shook the church walls.

Brother Kim felt chilled to the bone. This had been a terrible mistake. “Lord,” he whispered, crossing himself, “have mercy.”

 

* * *

 

Much to Chloe’s relief, Amenadiel arrived before Maze did.

“What kind of trouble has my little brother gotten himself into this time?” the burly angel asked as soon as he had left his car. “All of Heaven is in an uproar. We have lost contact with him. Tell me what happened.” He was sounding as calm and collected as Chloe could only hope she looked.

Then she remembered that Amenadiel was, first and foremost, a warrior. Of course he’d keep a level head in a battle situation.

She smiled briefly, feeling better just seeing him. “Monks,” she said succinctly, “in that church. They trapped Lucifer in something he called a Devil’s Trap.”

Amenadiel raised his eyebrows. “That’s impressive. I would have thought that all knowledge of this sort of thing had been lost. So, it actually worked?”

“Yeah. He can’t get out, and I think the circle is doing something to him. He lost his angel glamour as soon as he got trapped, for one thing. I thought it best to get backup. These guys are several fries short of a happy meal. Apparently, they want to exorcise Lucifer. Also, they have my guns. So, the perps are armed and dangerous, possibly insane.”

“Wait, exorcise him? That’s not possible.” He froze, turning his head. “Can you hear that?”

Whatever his angelic hearing had picked up, all Chloe could hear was the howling of the wind, the near constant rumble of thunder.

Oh, and another car approaching. It had hardly stopped, tyres screeching, when Maze hopped out.

She joined them at a run, her face a paroxysm of worry. “What’s going on with that place?” She pointed at the church. “I’ve never felt anything like it before. Is Lucifer in _there_ ?” She froze, same as Amenadiel had done. “ _Can you hear that?_ ” She stared at Amenadiel.

“What?” Chloe said. “What is it?”

Maze took off at a run, but Amenadiel grabbed her and held her back. She turned, teeth bared, and Chloe had the distinct impression that she had been about to bite the angel.

“Calm yourself, demon,” Amenadiel said firmly. “If you just storm in there, you are going to get yourself destroyed.”

“Will someone please tell me what’s going on?” Chloe said, more loudly.

“We need to do something!” Maze wailed. “That is Lucifer screaming!”

Amenadiel nodded. “We will do something.” He started walking towards the church. “But you are not taking point, Mazikeen.”

Chloe trailed after him, casting a worried glance at Maze. The demon looked ready to snap.

“This is how we do it,” Amenadiel said calmly. “I will take care of the monks. Chloe, you get Luci out of the circle. And Maze, you keep the monks from fleeing this place, in case they try. How many are there?”

“Five,” Chloe supplied, voice breaking. By now, she, too, could hear the screams.

“I will handle the humans. But beware, whatever they have done has opened a vortex. Cosmic forces are active inside the circle. That’s what you’re feeling, Mazikeen. It’s also what’s hurting Lucifer. If you find that you can’t approach, stay clear. The vortex is dangerous. It will close as soon as the circle is broken.”

Chloe tried to catch her breath. The near inhuman screams coming from the church were doing something to her insides.

“And Chloe,” Amenadiel went on, “before you pull Luci out, you must first open up the circle by breaking all lines. This is important. Otherwise, you may do him lasting damage.”

“Got it.”

They had reached the church doors. Maze was growling softly, twirling her knives. Chloe wished she still had her guns.

Amenadiel nodded at them. “Go.”

They ran in, Amenadiel taking the lead. Chloe made a beeline for the circle with Maze hot on her heels.

“You will cease this nonsense immediately,” Amenadiel roared. “In the name of God, my father, I order you to stand back from the circle!”

Chloe didn’t stop to watch the effect of the angel’s words. All she could focus on was the Devil, who was lying on his side, writhing weakly, screaming with each breath. But her way was clear, so Amenadiel’s command had obviously done something.

She heard Maze gasp and stumble to a stand. “I can’t get any closer,” the demon moaned. “It hurts. It _hurts_ . Go, Decker! _Get him out of that!_ ”

Chloe ran on. “Lucifer,” she gasped as she reached the circle. With two hard jabs from the heel of her boot, she scratched the paint off the stone floor, forming an opening in the lines.

Immediately, he raised his head, making a broken sound, and began to half crawl, half drag himself in the direction of the way out of the circle.

Sounds of a scuffle could be heard from behind her. Trusting Amenadiel to take care of the situation, she stepped into the circle, knelt down next to her Devil, carefully hooked her arms under his, and pulled him out. As soon as he was clear, she let herself drop next to him, not letting go.

Then, Maze was there on Lucifer’s other side, eyes wild, crying openly, running her hands over his back hesitantly as though afraid to touch him and yet unable to keep herself from doing so, saying his name over and over.

He lay shivering, dark red eyes staring unseeing. Chloe waited for it, but he didn’t shift back. Maybe he couldn’t. He looked so weak, his movements slow and uncoordinated; maybe shifting was beyond him right now. But at least, he had stopped screaming. Chloe was grateful for that.

“Lucifer,” she said, “it’s over. You’re free. Talk to me. Can you hear me?”

There was no reply. Instead, one of his red, burned hands reached out and closed about Chloe’s. It felt ice cold against her flesh. Lucifer’s skin had always felt inhumanly warm, so this was deeply disturbing. Instinctively, she covered it with her other hand in an attempt to warm it.

At that moment, a gust of wind blew through the church, whipping a strand of loose hair about her face. Startled, Chloe looked up.

A file of figures, maybe a dozen, maybe more, was standing motionless in a circle along the walls of the church nave, men and women, of all skin colors and ethnicities. They were wearing grey-and-silver robes. All of them had wings of various colors. All of them were looking at her and Lucifer. Some were smiling, some nodded in approval.

A sound of pain from Lucifer made her look away and down. He was staring at her out of his dark red eyes, pleading. Letting go of his hand, she shifted her position to settle him so his head could rest on her thigh, and gently ran her fingers over his face. “It’s okay, you’re safe,” she said again. “It’s over. It’s over.”

His eyes closed, her touch visibly soothing him.

Meanwhile, Amenadiel had corralled the monks in one corner of the church, all the way on the other side of the vaulted nave, and could be heard talking sternly. “You have meddled in things beyond your knowledge or power. How dare you interfere with the cosmic balance, you, mere mortals? How dare you presume to judge over one of God’s children? Did you not consider that only God himself can make such a judgement? For your presumption, you shall lose all memory of what you did today, and you shall feel pain and remorse whenever you consider a similar course of action again in the future. Go now. Go, and consider yourselves leniently dealt with.”

The monks walked away, looking dazed, staring straight ahead. The church door opened to let them pass, then closed with finality.

Chloe noticed that the sounds of thunder from outside had stopped when a shaft of sunlight slanted through the broken window, followed by another gust of wind.

She looked up to find that the angels were gone.

Her initial relief at having saved Lucifer was fading, replaced by worry. He wasn’t shifting back, even though he had been clear of the circle for a while now. Shouldn’t he be getting stronger? She had no idea what the vortex Amenadiel had mentioned had done to him. All she could think about was how cold Lucifer’s hand had felt in both of hers, about the way he was shivering as he was weakly curling up against her, dragging himself closer to her, seeking her warmth.

“Why isn’t he getting better?” Maze asked, sounding almost childlike, echoing Chloe’s thoughts.

Chloe shook her head. “Don’t know,” she whispered. She did know, though, that she wasn’t about to leave Lucifer lying alone on the floor when he was so cold and so weak. She buried her face briefly against his shoulder. He was all that mattered. “Lucifer,” she tried again. “Can you hear me? Please say something.”

He opened his dark red eyes and found hers. “Stay…?” he said, so softly she could barely hear him.

“Of course I’ll stay,” she said, framing his face with both of hers, again feeling the unnatural chill of his skin. “We’re getting you out of here, Lucifer. I only left you to get help. You didn’t think I’d abandon you, did you?”

He didn’t say anything, but she could read his response in his eyes.

“Silly Devil,” she whispered, and hugged him close.

“Let’s take him home, Chloe,” Amenadiel’s deep voice said behind her. “We’re finished here. These humans have drained him of his strength and his light, but we can help him regain both.”

“Will he… will he be okay?”

The angel smiled, handing her back her service weapons. “Yes, he will. You got him out in time. It may take a while, but he’ll be fine.”

 

* * *

 

They drove to Lux in Amenadiel’s car, followed by Maze driving Lucifer’s Corvette. Chloe made a mental note to get her own car back from the mall parking lot where she’d been taken, mere hours or half a lifetime ago.

When they reached the penthouse, the sun was beating down from a clear blue sky. All traces of the freak thunderstorm were gone.

Amenadiel was carrying his brother in his arms. He came to a stand in front of the glass balcony doors, still holding him. “Find a mattress and put it out there,” he said, nodding at the sunbathed marble balcony floor. “He needs to be in the light and the warmth Father has so graciously provided. Throwing him into a lake of fire might also work, but, well.”

With Chloe’s unnecessary help, Maze dragged a mattress from one of the guest bedrooms out into the hot California sun while Amenadiel stood, holding Lucifer close to him, an unreadable expression on his face, muttering something that sounded to Chloe like “I much prefer having to beat you up, little brother”.

When Lucifer was settled on the mattress in full sunlight, Amenadiel unbuttoned his brother’s ruined shirt, exposing the burned-looking skin on his chest, while Maze hovered, Chloe took care of the cuffs, and Lucifer looked at her silently, unmoving except for his constant convulsive shivers.

“Don’t try to shift back until you’re stronger,” Amenadiel told him. “It’s not like anyone here hasn’t seen you before, you know.”

That actually elicited a weak smile.

“Oh, and Chloe,” Amenadiel added, “welcome to the family.”

 

* * *

 

An hour passed. Amenadiel had left, stating that there was nothing more that he could do, and that it was now up to Lucifer. Chloe stayed out on the balcony with the Devil as long as she could stand the heat, going inside periodically to cool down and get a drink but physically unable to stay away from him for long.

He had fallen asleep, or unconscious, a while ago, his features slackening. His skin still felt cold to her touch, even though he should be burning up in this heat by now. And he still hadn’t shifted back to his human form.

“Maybe I should go,” Chloe said hesitantly, joining Maze at the bar to pour herself a drink, sweat drying on her skin. “He’ll heal faster if I’m not around, right?”

“Don’t you dare,” Maze said, putting down her own glass and smacking her lips. “I don’t completely understand what’s wrong with him, but it’s not like it’s an injury that he needs to heal. It won’t make a difference to his recovery whether you’re here or not. But it sure would hurt him in other ways if you leave. He needs you, Decker.” She finished the drink and poured another. “And before you say it, I’ll take care of your offspring.”

Chloe smiled, touched and a little sad. “Thank you, Maze. Just… don’t tell her that Lucifer’s ill. She’ll want to come visit him.”

Maze frowned. “Why shouldn’t she?”

“Not saying she shouldn’t. Just maybe wait until he’s managed to shift back again.”

Maze emptied her second glass. “Oh, I don’t think seeing him would scare her, Decker. She saw my true face and found it ‘cool’.”

In all this time, it had never occurred to Chloe that Maze might have a sort of glamour, too.

Maze gave her a look. “I’ll show you, but not now. Go back to him. Go.” She actually made a shooing motion.

Chloe didn’t feel like objecting.

 

* * *

 

The sun was approaching the horizon when Chloe finally felt the contours of Lucifer’s Devil form fade as she was holding him in her arms, the raised scars and exposed tendons being replaced by his smooth human form.

Sighing in relief, she bent over him, finding him looking back at her placidly with his beautiful dark eyes. She smiled, and pressed a lingering kiss to his cheek, glad to find it warmer, almost as warm as she remembered.

“Feeling better?” she said.

“Mhm. Much better.” He frowned and raised a hand towards her face. “Your nose is red.”

“Too much sun,” she said, catching his hand and holding it. “I’m also sweaty and icky.”

“You look beautiful to me.” He raised himself up on one elbow. “Let’s go inside, then. It’ll get cold out here soon, anyway.”

She supposed she shouldn’t wonder about him finding the balmy LA nights “cold” after having witnessed him out in the 150 degree heat for hours and barely even getting warm.

But mostly, she felt weak with relief when he did manage to get to his feet and make it all the way to his bed under his own steam. Once there, however, he sank down on it and let himself fall to the side, groaning.

She lifted his legs onto the bed and pulled the blankets over him, then walked down the stairs to the main room.

“Where are you going?” he said to her back, sounding small.

Damn. That had been thoughtless. “I’m just grabbing a shower, Lucifer.”

He nodded, visibly trying to look nonchalant.

She came back to him to look him in the eye. “I’m _not_ walking out on you. Not unless something really drastic happens. And certainly not without talking it through with you first. Possibly never. Yes, quite possibly never. Ever. I promise. Okay?”

He nodded again, this time with more conviction. “I believe you.”

She smiled. “Good.”

“I promise the same,” he said. “Only Dad himself will be able to make me break that promise, and even that’s doubtful.”

“I believe you,” she said, because if there was one thing she knew by now, it was that the Devil never breaks a promise. “So. Next time I walk away because I need help busting you out of a Devil’s Trap, you won’t panic or think I’ve abandoned you, right?”

“I didn’t panic.”

“But only because you were in no condition to panic.”

He had the grace to look contrite. “True.”

She bent down to kiss him. “Get some more rest, my silly Devil.”

He snorted, but let it go.

Hours later, as she was lying close to him, enjoying his restored angelic warmth, curled around him and he around her, she remembered that they’d basically received the blessing from Lucifer’s entire family today.

  
She closed her arms around her Devil and looked at the ceiling, whispering, “Thank you, Dad.”

**Author's Note:**

> Canis Domini: Literally "Dog of The Lord", a Latin pun on Dominicanis, the medieval monk order.


End file.
